If I ever needed proof that I’m a kinky grrrl, today I would have it. I wanted to do something nice for myself. Something relaxing. Something that would help me to feel good in my body. Now, most women would probably chose to get a massage, or go to the spa, or something like that, but those things didn’t occur to me until I was getting my pubic hair ripped out. Maybe I have latent masochistic tendencies. If so, I must have a lot of stuff to work out. It can really be painful to be waxed, tweezed, and plucked!
I think hair is the overall theme for my day.
I got a brow and bikini wax done professionally. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, which is why I grabbed today to do it. It was only once I was on that table that I questioned what I was doing, but I was kind of stuck. I can’t run very fast in a paper thong and a towel. I think I’m actually going to love the outcome. At the moment I feel like a plucked chicken. And why am I doing this? Because it will look better on camera? Because I’ll feel sexier in my panties? I’m not sure. I’ve always trimmed my pubic hair to keep it tidy, but I don’t like totally bare. I do like the way I look with a medium bikini wax. So maybe I’m just getting my pubic hair styled.
I had Harold touch up the pink streaks in my hair. They were getting kind of faded. It’s interesting to me how important my hair is. It’s part of my identity, right down to the brightly colored streaks!
I shaved my legs. I’m planning on wearing stockings tomorrow, so this is vital. I tend to only shave my legs for special occasions and wearing hosiery. My legs are just not very hairy, so why waste my time?
And the big news? I shaved my armpits. For the first time in about 2 years. My children are ecstatic. Harold really likes them natural and Joel is neutral. I don’t mind either way, but I’ve realized that I have some assumptions about armpit hair that were unconscious. Like my tendency to believe that hairy armpits are dirty, even when I know from experience that is untrue. Right now, I’m looking for a change. Shaving my armpits feels like taking care of myself (bringing up another interesting belief), so that’s what I’m doing.
Hair is very interesting in cultural contexts. As in ancient Egypt, Western culture supports feminine hairlessness. In the sex-positive culture, bald genitals have come to be a sign of someone who is serious about sex. Specifically, serious players – people who are likely to do kinky things with many people and/or in public. And that makes sense for some forms of play, like hot wax. I’m often seen as somewhat aberrant for having pubic hair. Contrast that to cultures who value hair. Years ago, I had a conversation with a Native American man, who explained that in his culture, people never cut their hair because their hair holds their history. He held up his long braid and said, “This hair knew my grandfather. He’s been dead for 15 years, but I carry him with me.” It prompted me to cut off all my hair.
Even while I’m suffering to get rid of all of my body hair, I’m not entirely sure why. Partly, it’s social conditioning – male is hairy, female is not. But I also feel kind of like the athletes who shave to be more streamlined. Mostly, I think I’m getting rid of the old to make way for the new. Hair will grow back, but for now, I am sleek, smooth, and sexy. And that feels pretty damn good. Except for the layers of skin missing around my bikini area. Otherwise, yeah, damn good.